Worth Any Price
by BlueAzalea
Summary: A "Kenzi Scale" coda from Dyson's POV. He would have been able to deny it forever if he hadn't killed her.


Dyson watches her sleep. When she turns, restless, a lock of sable hair falls across her cheek. Unable to resist, he lets his finger drift under the wayward strands and smooths them back behind the curve of her shoulder. Her skin is hot. It makes his skin hot too. Fearless Kenzi, caught up in dreams.

Thanks to her, he has his love back. It moves through his blood like a tendril of electricity, humming and making his heart pound. Her scent is everywhere, making him dizzy.

He devours her sleeping form with his eyes, glad that Bo and Trick are gone. He couldn't have hidden his feelings now if he tried. His fingers itch with the urge to touch her. Is she dreaming about him? He dreams about her and those dreams…oh, those have become unbearable. In his sleep they are in the forest where he was born. She wears white and flits through the dark trees and he follows behind and just when he's nearly close enough to catch her in his arms, she fades like an old photograph and is gone.

Then he wakes alone, shaking. He can't help but think that it might be better if his love were still in a bottle on the Norn's dusty shelf. When he loved Bo, he had hope. When his love was gone, he had been hollow but at peace.

When Kenzi brought his love back and it had flowed into him, he had been so impatient to see Bo. He knew that the lovely succubus had chosen Lauren and that he was being the worst kind of fool, but he couldn't wait to feel that longing again. But then he'd seen her, been face to face with her, and…nothing.

He could feel that his love was in place, like a key in a lock, but the sight of Bo had left him unmoved.

At first, he hadn't understood. He had been angry, dangerous, tempting fate. What did it mean, to have his love back and still feel nothing? After the fight with the Garuda, he had thought he just needed time to remind his heart who it belonged to. And then, when weeks passed and the sight of Bo gave him nothing but a pleasant flicker of warmth where there had once been a raging bonfire, he'd accepted it. He had his love back but it belonged to him, not to Bo, and it was his to give once more.

So he'd resolved to be smart about it (even though he'd never been smart about it before). A wolf mates for life and the reality of being mated to a succubus, who would always need to feed off the sexual energy of others, would have destroyed him eventually. No, the next time Dyson gave his heart, it would be to a fae who could love him and him alone, and who – for god's sake – would not be in love or married to someone else.

Except that he hadn't really had a choice after all, and this time his love had found an object of adoration even more dangerous than Ciara or Bo.

He was almost a thousand years old, had fought in countless wars, had spurned death and survived torture, and yet the strength of a small human woman had brought him to his knees.

_Kenzi._

He should have known it was happening when he occupied her body. He had learned every inch of her then, not just her figure (though there was that) or the way her clothes hugged her (there was that too) but her courage, her determination, her loyalty. Her love. She loved Bo and she loved him too.

Once that body-swapping fiasco was over, he hadn't said anything to her about it. Her love for him had been a confused, tangled snarl of emotions. Kenzi had known him first as Bo's friend and lover, and so she had taken her own longing and made it selfless – a desire to see him happy, to keep him close, even if it was with Bo and not her. And after all, how many times had she heard some random fae (and sometimes even Trick or Hale or even himself) make a casual comment about how useless humans were, how common?

Kenzi would not allow herself to acknowledge how she felt for him because she knew that Dyson would never return those feelings. And worse, he would pity her for having them.

So when they were back in their own bodies Dyson had touched his finger to her lips, not just to seal his secrets but to keep hers, too. They knew each other in a way few people could. And then came the Norn. After he'd slunk away in defeat, fearless Kenzi had come back to her lair with a chainsaw, facing down one of the most feared fae alive just to give him the chance to be happy. And when he'd been reckless, nearly throwing his life away in the fight against the Garuda, she had saved him.

He didn't know precisely when it happened. The smart wolf learns to avoid the trap, but by the time he realized he was caught, he no longer cared to get free. She reminded him of stories that fae told about human heroes who had prevailed against mighty fae gone drunk on age and power. Those stories were meant to remind the fae not to forget that humans could be dangerous, but he had found a new meaning in them after meeting Kenzi. She was a hero too, having outwitted Baba Yaga, the Norn, and others. She was braver every day than he had ever been in his long life. And he loved her for it. He _loved her._

But he might have been able to ignore it, to deny it, if he hadn't killed her.

Of course, it hadn't really been her, but for nearly twenty agonizing minutes he had held a slight body that had looked like Kenzi, smelled like Kenzi, and he had not been fucking prepared for the tidal wave of despair that had crashed down on him and stayed there like a lead blanket until Lauren had shown up and declared her an imposter.

Life without her, unthinkable. Lauren's pronouncement (_she's fae_) had seemed like a last-minute reprieve from a hanging. He had embraced Lauren, whom he had once resented so deeply, and had scampered off like a puppy, following Kenzi's scent until he'd tracked her to the kitsune's den. When he'd seen her face, lovely even covered in grime, he had nearly pulled her away from Bo into his own arms.

_There you are_.

And now he couldn't deny what was happening, but damned if he knew what to do about it. She was human and she would grow old and die while he watched. The thought should have gutted him, or maybe brought him to his senses, but like a selfish bastard all he could think about was taking her to bed, peeling off those ridiculous clothes, putting his hands all over her. He would make her scream, make her beg. He wanted to see her eyes glassy and her skin flushed. He would bring her to his apartment and keep her there for days, weeks.

_I can be your slave. And you can be mine._

Those words echoed in his mind, making his pulse race, and he wanted to hear the real Kenzi say them. He wanted to mark her, to take her to the Dal and let everyone see who she belonged to. Not to Bo. To him. His, forever.

It might break Hale's heart, but the wolf in him couldn't care less. It would make Bo angry, but he didn't care about that either.

He watches her sleep. He has a brief internal debate on whether to kiss her senseless the moment she opens her eyes, but she isn't ready. He isn't ready either, truth be told. But for her, he would try.

He has his love back, and this time he isn't letting go.


End file.
